


Linked Together

by toomuchdiscourse (orphan_account)



Series: Matchmaker Pip AU [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Handcuffed Together, M/M, Meddling Kids, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-12 06:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10485012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/toomuchdiscourse
Summary: Soulmates are people who are linked together by fate. Alex and Thomas aren't soulmates, and it's not by fate, but they are linked together.Or, the "handcuffed to each other" trope, Jamilton style. Blame Philip.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> you know, a lot of people can blame other people for giving them new ships. I can only really blame myself for this though, because I only started shipping Jamilton after I started writing it. Agreeing to pander a little to a popular ship via prompts has worked against me. 
> 
> I mean, I still don't go out of my way to read it, but I do now go out of my way to write it, so what does that say about me?

Alex still didn't understand Jefferson one bit. The next day, after the Philip fiasco, Jefferson took one look at Alex, wrinkled his nose in that irritating way again, and insulted his fashion sense- right back to normal.

Well, if Jefferson wanted to forget that day's events, who was Alex to stop him? He shot back with an insult to Jefferson's value as an employee, and wondered aloud if fashion was the only thing he was concerned about; and the status quo resettled itself. 

Except, of course, for one change. 

“Dad! Dad! When can we go to the movies with Tommy?”

Alex choked on his hot chocolate. “Tom- you mean Jefferson?” 

Philip grinned broadly, bouncing in his chair. “He said I could call him Tommy, as long as he gets to call me Pip. I like Pip anyways, so joke's on him.” 

“Right,” Alex coughed. “Jeff-er, Tom,” He couldn't bring himself to finish the childish nickname. “Tom's... busy.” He misdirected. There was no way Alex would be the one to bring that evening up again, and certainly not at work- the only place he ever had to interact with Jefferson. 

“Busy?” Philip furrowed his brows, as if immediately seeing through the lie. “He said he wanted to come.” His voice tipped down, hurt. 

Alex winced. “Well, sometimes adults have other obligations that they forget about. I'm sure he'd love to go if he could. His work is as busy as mine, though.” The best excuse was a true one. As much as Alex hated to admit it, Jefferson did plenty of work for the firm. He was Alex's rival for good reason, even if he was a pompous jerk who got everything handed to him. 

But the excuse did nothing to console Philip. His shoulders drooped. “He said he would,” Philip whined, not quite teary eyed, but certainly upset. “Does Tommy hate me after all?” 

Alex froze. “No, of course he doesn't,” He found himself saying automatically. “Look, I'll ask him again, maybe I can help him clear a date, how does that sound?” 

Philip smiled, bright as the sun. “Yeah!” 

Alex smiled back, silently cursing his big mouth.

\--

Jefferson was, of course, Jefferson. Alex studied him carefully, the next morning at work, thinking of the right angle to take. He could just walk up and ask, but he needed a 'yes', for Philip's sake. 

Jefferson, for his part, stared back with equal wariness, almost as if he expected something. Or maybe it was because Alex didn't respond to his morning taunt, too wrapped up in what he'd have to do sometime today. 

Alex lost his first chance, when Jefferson strolled by to steal Alex's stapler. 

Alex lost his second chance, when he chickened out at lunchtime and went out for a burger instead. 

The third time, though, Alex went for it. It was the end of the day, and James had gone on ahead- James and Jefferson were neighbours and best friends who carpooled; but Alex didn't care how rarely they were apart, he was not doing this in front of James. Alex took a deep breath. He was not throwing away his shot. 

“Yo, Jefferson,” Alex raised his voice before he could change his mind. Jefferson turned, looked genuinely confused for a moment, before raising one slender brow. “I need to ask you something.” 

Jefferson's brow raised further as he sauntered over. “Oh really?”

Alex swallowed down his instinctive frustration. Why did Jefferson have to be so damn condescending? “You remember Philip?” 

Instantly, Jefferson's entire demeanor shifted. His perfect back posture slackened, his annoying smirk disappeared, something almost friendly flashed across his face as he blinked once, then twice. Then, he frowned, brows creasing; but Alex had already seen it. 

“Yes, why?” Jefferson spoke cautiously. It was so unusual, Alex hesitated, knowing instinctively that he was in strange, new territory. 

It was worrying, but Alex didn't get this far by shying away from new territory. “He's been asking about you. Wants you to go see that movie with him. Us.” Alex firmly resisted the urge to nibble his cheeks and shift his weight. He would not be a nervous schoolchild, not with his sworn enemy. 

Jefferson's eyes blew wide for a single split second, before being masked behind confused wariness once again. Alex wondered where all these facial expressions had been hiding this whole time. Jefferson had been nothing but smug arrogance since they'd met, and suddenly now he'd decided to be a three-dimensional human being? 

“I...” Jefferson trailed off. “Uh, okay.” He coughed. “For the kid's sake, sure.” 

“Yeah,” Alex nodded quickly, not sure how to take Jefferson's reaction. “This doesn't change anything.” Alex's statement had an immediate effect- Jefferson's eyes hardened, scowl turning sharper, more familiar. For a moment, Alex was disappointed. He decided not to dwell on it. 

\--

Philip was overjoyed, both at the news and throughout the actual event. That's all that mattered, Alex told himself. He'd even believe it, if only he could take his eyes off of Jefferson.

The thing was, he wasn't just good with kids. He was great. Alex watched blankly as Jefferson laughed and ruffled Philip's hair, acting for all the world like he'd known Philip for years. He looked like he belonged there, making Philip laugh and smile and swing their arms back and forth together. 

Then, Jefferson would glance up, and catch Alex's eyes, and the moment would shatter. His lips twisted, his eyes narrowing. Philip hummed the movie's end credits song as they walked out of the theater, utterly content. 

“What are you staring at,” Alex hissed, when Jefferson refused to let up. 

“Shut up, Hamilton.” Jefferson hissed back. “You're being weird, the kid's noticing.” 

Anger bubbled up, as hot as it was unbidden. “Don't talk to me like I can't parent my own kid!”

Jefferson's eyes flared, incensed. “Then act like it! You can't even keep a half decent eye-” 

“Are you fighting?” Philip cocked his head, frowning. 

“O-of course not!” Alex and Jefferson both startled at the same time. “We just... don't always see eye to eye,” Alex tried for an honest explanation. 

“Yes, your Dad's to short to see things on my level,” Jefferson joked, shooting Philip a conspiratorial grin. “That's why he's always angry at me.” 

“Excuse me-!” Alex started, and then cut himself off. It would only prove Jefferson's point, and he was far too aware of Philip's expectant face. He couldn't take the bait in front of his own son. 

Still, Jefferson's eyes lit up, not missing the reaction in the slightest. Philip frowned deeper, before shrugging. “You should get along, Dad. Tommy's great!” 

“Yeah...” Alex agreed reluctantly, not wanting to disappoint Philip. Jefferson snorted, but left it. 

Yeah, there wasn't a chance in hell of that happening. 

\--

“Hey, Dad?” Philip asked the next day, at breakfast. “How come you never got Tommy to come over before? He's tons of fun.” 

Alex narrowly avoided spilling breakfast down his front, only controlled because he was partially expecting it. “Well, as I said last night, we don't always... get along.” Before Philip could frown, Alex tried to make a better explanation. “Sometimes that just happens. You find someone who doesn't like you, and you don't like them, and that's all there is to it.” 

Philip stared into his cereal, looking more thoughtful than crestfallen, thankfully. “But he's nice. And you're nice. Why don't you like him?” 

The question was uncomfortably piercing. Alex decided to go for honesty. “It's not that I dislike him, more that he dislikes me. We have a lot of different opinions, and he's always challenging me at work, so I have to challenge him back. So we fight a lot.” 

“Oh,” Philip fiddled with his spoon. “I asked Tommy the same thing, when he was taking me home the first time we were gonna see the movie. He said the same thing, that he thinks you don't like him.” 

Alex froze, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable at the words. “I see,” he couldn't read into it, Jefferson just didn't want to upset Philip. 

He still wasn't in a position to fully understand his feelings over Jefferson actually being invested in Philip's happiness either, to be honest.

“So, if you both don't actually not like each other, if you just spent time together you would get along better?” Philip grinned, impressed by his own idea. 

“Err, I'm not sure if that would work,” Alex waved his hand. “We'd probably get mad at each other and stop hanging out in the first minute, anyways!”

Philip hummed, finishing his breakfast. “So if you weren't allowed to leave, you might get along?”

“Sure, Pip.” Alex ruffled his hair. “But that's not likely to happen. We're already forced to spend time together at work, we'd probably have to be attached at the hip for it to work.”

Philip brightened, like he'd come to some sort of conclusion. It might have been worrying, but he dropped the subject, which was all Alex cared about. 

The rest of the week went thankfully, mercifully, normal. Philip visited his friends- Lafayette's and Burr's children, plus that Eacker kid. Jefferson continued to snipe and snap, and Alex continued to give as good as he got. 

Until, the end of the week, when Philip nearly demanded to see 'Tommy' again. “Dad, come on, please? I'm going back to Mom's tomorrow and it'll be a whole week before I can ask again!” 

“Philip, it's only a week.” Alex reminded, somehow expecting this moment. “You've gone your whole life without meeting Tom, you'll survive a bit more.” He suppressed a wince at addressing Jefferson by his first name, and a nickname on top of that. It was weird.

Philip wrinkled his nose. “You're only saying that because you don't want to ask, and you're afraid of actually getting along.” 

He really was the most troublesome of his parent's traits- Eliza's sharp perception, and Alex's blunt ambition- well, the ambition may well be from both of them. “Nice try, kiddo,” Alex said even though Philip was spot on for the first part; but he wasn't about to address the 'afraid to get along' bit.

“Aw, come ooon” Philip whined. “Just for a bit, before Mom picks me up?”

“Sorry, Pip. There's only so much Jefferson- Tom, that I can handle in a week.” 

If anything, Philip only looked more determined. “I just think if you gave him a chance, then you'd have a boyfriend too, like Mom has Mars...” Philip pouted. Alex paled.

“Tom is never going to be my boyfriend. Philip, is that what this has been about?” 

Philip nodded. “I just want you to be happy too. Mom smiles a lot more now that Mars is her girlfriend.”

Alex sighed. “Pip, I know you mean well, and you're very smart for your age, but you're too young to be matchmaking.” 

Philip frowned, but wasn't deterred. “How do you know, if you don't even try?” 

“I just do, now please leave it.” 

“Fine, then I'll wait till next week and ask Tommy why he won't date you.” 

Alex froze. “You wouldn't.” He could hear exactly how Philip would phrase it, as if it were a question Alex was asking himself, and not the work of an overeager child.

Slowly, Philip smiled. “Then ask him to come over today, just for a bit, before Mom picks me up.” This was it, he was being blackmailed by his own son.

“I could ground you, you know.” Alex tried.

“Okay,” Philip shrugged, apparently so dedicated to this scheme that he was willing to bear the punishment- which meant that the chances of him just forgetting this over the week with Eliza was slim. Damn it, Alex realized, he was being successfully blackmailed by his own son.

“We'll see. But if Tom can't make it, I better not hear a word from you.” Alex warned. Philip shrugged. It wasn't a good sign.

Jefferson, of course, was available, somehow. It was a Saturday, he should have been off doing whatever asshole things he did in his leisure time; but one call to Madison and a phone pass later, and everything slotted together. 

“Is this going to be a regular thing, because Jemmy about had a heart attack from sheer confusion.” Jefferson griped as Alex met him in the driveway. Philip watched them from inside the house, the opposite of subtlety. 

“God, I hope not,” Alex complained in turn. “Philip won't shut up about you, unfortunately. He hasn't met a new adult in a while. It'll pass.” 

Jefferson's face softened, just a touch. “Well, your kid has better taste in company than you. Must get it from his mother.” 

“Now listen here, you-” Alex trailed off, glancing at the window. Philip grinned back with both thumbs up, obviously excited. “You know what, never mind. Just come in.” Alex could at least try to get along for a bit. It was only a matter of time before Philip's fascination faded. 

Jefferson stared, taken aback. Then, he shook himself and nodded. “Don't mind if I do.”

“Right,” Alex hesitated in front of the door. “Eliza will be over in about half an hour anyway, so you won't need to stay long. And,” Alex swallowed. “I guess, uh, thanks for humouring Philip.”

Jefferson gaped. “I'm sorry, what?”

“You heard me!” Alex snapped back. “You could have been a bigger asshole about this but you aren't, okay? Being an asshole about this specifically, I mean. You still are one in general.” 

Jefferson's eyes stayed wide for another moment; and then they crinkled as he burst into laughter, rich and pleasant compared to the usual scathing cackles Alex was used to. “Okay, Hamilton. Sure thing.”

“Oh, shut up.” Alex opened the front door instead of finding a proper response, cheeks reddening.

Philip wasted no time bounding over. “Tommy! You came!” 

“Pip!” Jefferson laughed, once again warm and empty of spite. It did something uncomfortable to Alex's gut. He decided not to analyze it.

“Now you need to hold hands!” Philip put on his most innocent grin. His most innocent grin, of course, was full of lies- Philip was far too clever for his age. 

Alex tried to cut if off. “Philip, no, seriously.” 

“Just for a second! Please?” Philip batted his eyes, next; a deadly combination for the uninitiated

“You don't want to make a guest uncomfortable, Philip, not when he visited just for you.” Alex reprimanded, as gently as he could. Jefferson was right there, and oh God, Philip better not bring up the boyfriend thing-

“Pff,” Jefferson scoffed. “You think that's enough to make me 'uncomfortable'?” He crossed his arms. “I'm not some fragile flower.” 

Alex glared helplessly. “Hey, I'm just trying to- ugh,” He shook his head. “Philip, you don't just tell people to hold hands. That's something people only do together if they want to.” 

“Are you trying to give the enthusiastic consent speech right now? Over hand holding?” Jefferson rolled his eyes.

Alex bit back a sharper retort. “Will you just-”

Jefferson cut him off with a loud, fake sigh. “Don't worry about it, Pip. Your Dad can't handle basic human things, sometimes. That includes holding hands, apparently.” 

In that moment, Alex saw red. “Okay, you know what, fine!” He seized Jefferson's hand in the fiercest grip he could manage. It wasn't nearly strong enough, Jefferson only rolling his eyes and gripping back. “Are you both happy, now?” 

“A-almost!” Philip swallowed an excited giggle. He reached for something behind his back. Alex had a split second to fear it was a camera, before something far, far worse happened. 

With two harsh ratcheting noises, Philip snapped a pair of handcuffs tightly closed. One half around Jefferson, the other cold against Alex's own wrist. Then, before either adult could react, he pushed past them and ran laughing out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza saves the day, but they're still cuffed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to wait a day before posting this but also, I tagged Eliza so I should add the part where she shows up. (I plan to add Madison to the tags later too, he shows up as an important supporting character as well). This won't be the last you see of her, though the rest of the fic isn't quite set in stone.

The first thing Hamilton did was yank his hand away, instinctively. With a harsh pull against his wrist, Thomas' hand followed. For a moment, they both stared, silent. 

Then, Hamilton turned towards the open door, took a deep breath, and attempted to channel Washington's pure authority. “Philip Schuyler-Hamilton, get back here this instant!”

Predictably, nothing happened. Philip wasn't even within sight of the yard anymore. For such small legs, the kid moved pretty fast. “Philip, I'm serious! You're in big trouble right now!” He bellowed, greeted only by the pleasant sounds of a Saturday afternoon. 

“Yes, tell him he's in trouble, that's going to work,” Thomas snarked, still unable to keep his eyes off the cuffs. For the life of him, he couldn't grasp what possessed the kid to do this. He didn't seem like the practical joke type, but then, Thomas hadn't known him long. 

If this was the result of being acquainted with little Philip, maybe Thomas would have been better off leaving well enough alone. Damn him and his soft spot for children. 

“Well, what would you have me do!?” Hamilton seethed, pulling uselessly at the handcuffs. “Oh wait, your last idea got us into this!” 

“You think this is my fault?” Thomas reared back, putting a step of space between them. It failed, as Hamilton yelped, his arm yanked forward. For a split second, Thomas felt like apologizing. He ignored it. “It's your offspring that locked us together. Now hold on a moment, they're probably trick cuffs.” More gently this time, Thomas guided his arm closer, so he could inspect the cuff. It looked to be solid metal, not cheap hard plastic. That wasn't a good sign. Still, there was no way a 9 year old would have gotten his hands on something legit.

“Trick cuffs?” Hamilton scooted closer to get a look at his half of the cuff, plucking at it with his free hand. 

Thomas ran his thumb around the base of the cuff, looking for a button or latch of some sort. “You know, the fake toy ones that don't use keys. An actual set of real handcuffs are expensive, and there's no way he'd be able to just order a pair, unless you're really bad at raising kids.” 

“Oh fuck off!” Hamilton growled, gripping the metal circling his arm to try and pry it apart. The tendons in his arms flexed, but the cuff refused to yield. “He certainly didn't find this in my house, if that's what you're asking.” 

Thomas scoffed, for once not having the time for Hamilton's obsessive defensiveness. “It's not going to come off that way...” He inspected his cuff again, hoping against the dawning realization. “Shit.” 

Hamilton stopped his struggling to stare at Thomas. “What?”

The evidence stared Thomas right in the face. He turned his wrist towards Hamilton, pointing at the offending detail. “There's a keyhole. And no buttons or anything. And it's made of metal.” Hamilton's eyebrows furrowed at the explanation. Seemingly without thinking, he grabbed Thomas' hand to get a better look, running a thumb over the incriminating keyhole. Slowly, Hamilton lifted his trapped arm, holding it parallel. It had a matching tiny keyhole.

“They won't come off without the key, will they?” Hamilton replied, lips pressed grimly together. 

“Not likely.” Thomas knew the feeling. “Your kid probably has them. Any idea where he'd usually run off to?”

Hamilton made to bite at his fingernails, but stopped suddenly as the chain jangled from his movement. Instead, he bit harshly at his lip, tearing at dry skin. “There's not too many places for him to go. Probably got around to the backyard and hopped a few fences.” Then, he shot Thomas a rueful smile, gesturing at the chain. “I don't think we'd be very good at following him like this, though.” 

The sight made some of Thomas' tension drain, somehow. Maybe it was just due to how bizarre the situation was, but seeing Hamilton actually smile put him at ease. Of course, that realization just made Thomas' tension return. Hamilton never smiled at him, it shouldn't make him feel better.

“Oh!” Hamilton's smile brightened, becoming more genuine. “Eliza should be here soon, though! She can help sort this out!”

Clearly, he meant for the statement to be comforting, but Thomas felt an immediate, acute pit of dread, blood draining from his face. “I'm not speaking to Eliza Schuyler while handcuffed to you.” 

Hamilton furrowed his brows, as if not understanding Thomas' concerns. Then, he snorted. “Eliza won't care about that. Well, she'll probably laugh a bit, but she's seen weirder, trust me.” 

“Weirder than you being cuffed to another person and your nine year old son having run away?” 

“Oh, right.” Hamilton's face suddenly paled, matching Thomas' own feelings on the matter. “God, Pip's missing again. She's going to kill me.” 

This was awful- Thomas desperately wanted to turn tail and run away from the inevitable crippling embarrassment that was sure to happen. The shiny polished steel glinted in bright sunlight, almost ominous in its simplicity. 

Running away wasn't an option, anymore. 

\--

When Eliza showed up a mere twenty minutes later, Thomas wasn't ready. 

“Oh my God, can't you just talk to her from the front porch with your hand behind the door?” Thomas hissed, trying not to visibly panic as the car rolled to a stop in the driveway. 

Hamilton let out a sharp huff. “What, you can't handle a bit of an embarrassment? I'm fine, and I'm just as much in this as you are. More even, since it's my ex-wife here.”

“Which just means you're more comfortable around each other! God forbid I not want my good friend's little sister seeing us like this!”

Thomas knew he had said the wrong thing when Hamilton turned to give him a sly, smug look. “So you admit all that talk about taking a lot to make you comfortable was bullshit? And I'm the one who can't handle something as simple as holding hands?” 

Sharp irritation folded into the awful feeling of embarrassment already swirling in his gut- as familiar as it was unpleasant. Hamilton was too good at getting under his skin. Refusing to admit to any weakness, Thomas straightened his spine. “Fine. If you want to give her a show, go for it. I won't be the one she blames for this, and rightly so.” 

Anger flashed across Hamilton's eyes; but before he could answer, the doorbell rang. 

Despite his previous bravado, Hamilton opened the door only partway, with Thomas and their cuffed hands held well out of sight. “Eliza! How are you!” 

Thomas couldn't see Eliza, but he could hear the pointed silence. “Alexander Hamilton, what did you do this time?” 

Hamilton froze. It was almost interesting to see how quickly he could be put in line. Washington could do it too, but his brand of natural authority worked on everyone. “Betsy, dear, what do you mean?” He laughed, high pitched and forced. Hamilton was done the moment his mouth had opened. 

“Don't 'Betsy' me, Alex. I know the tone you make when you're guilty over something. Where's Philip?”

The confident accusation startled a flinch out of Hamilton. “Well, you see...” And then, apparently unable to explain himself, Hamilton threw the door open. Thomas cringed as Eliza Schuyler's usually soft eyes glared harshly, first at Thomas and then down at the handcuffs, eye-catching in the sunlight. 

She stared for another, long moment, before sighing. “Philip did this? And then ran off to avoid trouble?” 

“Yes! I'm so glad you understand!” Hamilton practically bounced to the toes of his feet. “I have no idea what's gotten into him, to be honest-”

“You're not off the hook either!” She snapped quickly, turning slightly to rub two fingers against her temple. “If he's resorted to this, it's because you're giving him reasons to be worried about you.”

Thomas' mouth opened before he knew what was happening. “Wait, why would being worried make him do... this?” He shifted the chain in demonstration, rather than repeat it out loud. Hamilton immediately froze, turning his eyes frantically away. 

Eliza just shook her head. “Don't worry about it, Thomas. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this. Philip should know better.”

Half as an automatic response, and half to restore the argumentative but familiar tone- Hamilton being cowed like this was weird- Thomas scoffed, in his best superior tone. “Well, at least someone's apologizing.” 

Hamilton's eyes snapped back up immediately, with an almost comforting fire. “That's not fair, you're the one who insisted on holding hands in the first place!”

“And how was I supposed to know that would lead to this?” Thomas rolled his eyes.

Eliza cleared her throat, before he could continue. “I'm going to track down my missing son. You two enjoy arguing.” Thomas balked at the words, at being lumped into the same boat as Hamilton- but Eliza was already striding outside. 

She took a breath, released it, and then opened her mouth wide. “Philip Schuyler Hamilton, if you get your butt here right now, you won't be in trouble for hiding!” 

“That's just what I-” Hamilton grumbled under his breath. Thomas had a similar feeling- not that he'd admit it. Why would Philip come out for Eliza under the same demand?

But then, Thomas realized, Eliza was making a deal- not a demand. 

With a rustle of leaves and a shaking of branches, Philip carefully slid down the neighbour's front yard tree he had been concealed in. Thomas and Hamilton both stared in matching rare looks of disbelief as Philip obediently jogged around the fence that he must have previously hopped, back to their yard and in front of Eliza. 

Philip glanced quickly at the handcuffs, covered his mouth with a hand, then up at Eliza, uncertain. “Am I really not in trouble?” 

“Not for running away,” Eliza agreed with a warm smile. Hamilton made to protest, but one sharply waved hand shut him up again. “Now, where did you put the keys for that? Mr. Jefferson needs to get back to his own home too, you know. This isn't fair to him.” 

“Um,” Philip hesitated, brows furrowing, a tiny frown turning his lips. 

“Sweetie, it's okay. You're not in trouble right now. We just need the key, alright?”

“Umm,” Philip said again, ducking his head. “Gee threw them down the sewer drain near school...” 

“What!?” Thomas yelped, matching an equally strangled sounding Hamilton. 

Eliza knelt down, reaching eye level with Philip. “Honey, are you absolutely sure? There aren't any spares or anything?” 

Philip shook his head. “Gess said that was the only key. He got them from his Dad's secret drawer.” 

So it was down to Philip's friends having unfortunate access to handcuffs, rather than Philip himself. Not that Thomas was about to give any kind of apology. 

Eliza hummed. “And you're sure?”

Philip nodded.

“Alright, then.” Eliza stood up to her full height. “Kiddo, you are beyond grounded.” 

“What!” Philip's response was immediate. “But Mo-om, you said I wasn't in trouble!”

Eliza shook her head. “I said you weren't in trouble for running away. You are in very big trouble for handcuffing your father and his friend together, though.” 

“That's not fair!” Philip whined. He glanced at Hamilton as if briefly expecting some respite, before remembering his actions and pouting. 

“What's not fair is trapping people in handcuffs and purposefully losing the key. Philip, I'm disappointed in you.”

For the first time, Philip actually seemed to wilt, finally seeming to realize his actions under the universally powerful force of a disappointed mother. “I just wanted Tommy and Dad to get along. Dad said they might get along if they were forced to spend time together, but that it would never happen.” 

Eliza loosed a sigh. Hamilton said nothing, letting his ex wife handle the situation. Thomas did nothing as well, wishing desperately that he wasn't stuck here witnessing a private family moment. He didn't belong. 

“Even if you mean well, I think you're smart enough to know this was wrong. You can't make these kinds of decisions for people.” 

Philip screwed his face up. “Yeah,” he said quietly, with a tiny sniffle. Thomas looked away, reasonable fault or not, witnessing someone's child being disciplined was intensely uncomfortable. 

“Would you like to apologize before we leave?” Eliza's tone of voice did not allow refusal, but at the same time it was also kind, somehow.

Philip ducked his head again. “Sorry Dad. Sorry Tommy. I won't do it again.” 

“Good,” Eliza encouraged. “Now, let's get going. We're late, and Maria's waiting. When we get home, we can have a longer talk about this.” 

Philip nodded miserably, walking to the car. “Wait!”, Hamilton startled. “What about me? I'm still stuck in... this!” He lifted his trapped arm. Thomas winced at the pull of metal against flesh. 

“I'm sorry, but figure it out, Alex. I have to get going.” Eliza called, walking past them to grab Philip's backback by the door. “Maybe look it up online? Also, we're going to try and work this out, but you should definitely have a discussion with Philip about this, later.” With a wave, Eliza opened the car door and stepped into the driver's seat. With a rumble, the car backed out of the driveway and drove down the road, quickly turning out of sight. 

Thomas and Hamilton both stared after her, longer than reasonably necessary. 

“Well,” Thomas drawled, not liking the silence. “Now what?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson and Hamilton problemsolve- together!

“I can't believe this.”

“You made me meet your ex like this, you can meet my best friend like this.” Thomas retorted, hoping to finally shut Hamilton up. He'd been complaining the entire car ride about every detail, to the point where Thomas wasn't even sure what parts of the plan he actually had a problem with, and what parts were just him being contrary. That was even if Hamilton had any problem at all, besides the fact that Thomas came up with it. 

“No,” Hamilton griped, “I mean, this has to be illegal, or at the very least unsafe.” He gestured with his free hand at himself. He was leaned uncomfortably, trapped hand lightly gripping Thomas' wrist so that he could operate the car. 

Hamilton was probably right. Not that Thomas would tell him that. “Well, you can't expect to ask someone a favour and expect them to come out immediately to some house they've never been to. We need James, and I refuse to make him drive all the way out to your place.”

“Hey, my house is great,” Hamilton snapped. “Nothing wrong with it.” 

“It's not about the house, it's that it's your house,” The retort came naturally to Thomas. It was as natural as the way Hamilton fumed beside him, like a kettle with too much pressure inside. “Stop talking, you're making it hard to drive.” 

Hamilton huffed loudly. “You're just bad at driving.” 

Jefferson rolled his eyes, but focused on the road. His focus came just in time to see flashing colours light up his rear view mirror. The telltale siren of a police vehicle rang loudly behind them. “Shit, fuck,” Thomas swore, not caring if he sounded crude right now. 

“What the hell did you do!?” Hamilton's tone was accusatory, but his eyes were blown as wide as Thomas' surely were. 

“I don't know- shit!” Thomas' heart started pounding as he signalled and pulled to the shoulder. “Driving like this has to be illegal!” He jerked a thumb at the cuffs. “What do we do now!?” Thomas didn't even care that he was practically begging Hamilton for a solution. He couldn't think. The police officer was stepping out of the cruiser. 

“Oh shit,” Hamilton agreed. “Uh, pull your sleeves over!” 

Thomas hastily yanked his shirt sleeve over the cuff, watching Hamilton do the same. “They'll still see the chain-” Hamilton's hand grabbed his, pressing the slack of the chain in between them. Combined with the sleeves, the cuffs were actually out of sight. 

Thomas had a split second to be grateful for Hamilton's quick thinking, before the officer was at the driver's window. He could do this, he just needed to act natural, like nothing was wrong. 

“Hi sir,” The officer smiled pleasantly from the other side of the car door. “Do you know how fast you were driving?” She didn't look particularly angry, that should have been a good sign.

“Uh,” Thomas' brain froze. The icy grip of social anxiety gripped his throat. It would be so easy to panic, something painful working its way up his gut; but no, he could do this. He hadn't put so much effort into counseling those years back just to falter in front of a police officer and his worst enemy. “No, actually,” He said truthfully, taking a breath to calm himself. 

“Ah, well, you were driving 16 over the posted speed limit. Can I see your license and registration?” 

License and Registration- he could do that. Thomas fumbled for his wallet, pulling the drivers' license out. His vehicle registration was, of course, in the glove box. Thomas leaned forward, then stopped. He'd only be able to reach it with his right hand, which he couldn't because it was holding Hamilton's, hiding the cuff. Right. 

Thomas opened his mouth, but Hamilton was already moving, reaching for the glove box with a questioning glance. Thomas nodded, watching as Hamilton quickly pulled out the owner's manual, passing it over. With one hand, it was awkward to flip open, but Thomas grabbed the registration easily enough, in a little plastic case along with proof of insurance. 

The police officer watched the exchange with a raised brow, but took the items anyways. Her eyes scanned the information, handing it back. “Is there any particular reason you were speeding, Mr. Jefferson?” 

The sound of his surname sent an unexplained surge of strength through his spine. Thomas' back straightened as he worked himself into a better state of mind. If he kept it together, he'd get out of this with nothing more than a simple speeding ticket. 

“I'm really sorry. We were just in a rush to get home, and the road was pretty empty and I wasn't paying as much attention to the speedometer as I should have.”

If anything, her brow raised higher. Her eyes left his, pointedly glancing at his trapped hand, at the way it linked with Hamilton's. Thomas felt panic creeping at the edges of his mind again. She suspected, she was going to ask, and then she was going to find out and they'd get in so much shit. Thomas had to say something else. He thought about their joined hands, of any explanation that wasn't handcuffs, and an idea suddenly sprouted. “Uh, Hamilton just agreed to move in with me! It's really exciting!” 

The police officer's eyes snapped back to Thomas, surprised. A smile slowly spread across her lips. “Well, congratulations! Have you been going steady for a while?” 

Thomas swallowed, mind racing. “Yes, we've been dating for over a year now. Really, we would have done it earlier, but both of us wanted to keep our apartments. I finally won the battle, though.” 

That did the trick, the police officer breaking out into a chuckle. “My husband was the same. In the end, we just got a new place entirely. Lawyers are so stubborn, I swear.” 

“Mine was bigger. It's simple logic,” Hamilton complained with good nature from the passenger's. Thomas barely held back a startle, almost forgetting he was there. He spared a brief thankful look at Hamilton for playing along. Hamilton shot him something decidedly unimpressed in return. 

The police officer clearly took it as part of the completely fake housing debate and laughed again. “Well, sometimes sacrifices need to be made in the name of love, right?” 

Hamilton grinned, so much more natural at on-the-spot smooth talking than Thomas could ever hope to be. “You say it. If I didn't love this idiot so much I'd have left him right there. He doesn't understand that having twice as much space for the same price is better than being in walking distance to all the fancy upscale clothing stores.” He shrugged, a perfectly casual 'what can you do?' gesture. “It makes him happy though, so what can you do?”

“There's such a thing as good location, you know,” Thomas fired back naturally at the apparent insult to his home. It actually was a nice apartment in a good downtown location, and he wouldn't change it for the world. He certainly wouldn't change it to move into Hamilton's suburb home. Honestly. “Besides, it's your home now too, you can stop making fun of it any time.” 

The police officer coughed. Thomas flinched, turning his head back to her. Engaging Hamilton was so natural he'd almost forgotten. “Sounds like you two have your plans full for the evening.” Her smile was teasing now, or maybe encouraging. “I suppose I could let you off with a warning.”

“Oh!” Thomas nearly jumped. “Thank you, but you don't need to do that for our sake, we can pay the ticket.” He babbled, stopping himself before he could say anything else stupid. 

The police officer merely waved her hand. “Just try not to be too distracted. You can celebrate all you like once you get home safely.” With that piece of advise, she winked, passing the papers back. “Have a good day!”

“Have a good day,” Thomas parroted, feeling out of his element yet again. He rolled the window up silently as the police officer walked away, back to her cruiser. 

They stayed silent for a moment. Then, “ I've never even been to your place and I can already tell you I'd never move in there.” Hamilton wrinkled his nose. Thomas sighed, about to explain that it was the only thing he could think of, but then Hamilton interrupted again. “ I would definitely win that argument. My house is awesome.” 

“Oh shut up,” Thomas let out a deep breath. “Just be glad she didn't find us out.” 

That earned a slow shrug from Hamilton. “Sure, sure. That actually wasn't bad, all things considered. After I got past the immediate urge to hurl at the idea of us actually dating.” The grin he sent Thomas was strained, despite the teasing words. Did he feel weird about what happened? 

“Trust me, it wasn't anything personal. It was the first explanation for holding hands that I could think of. And it's not like we'll ever see her again.” 

“True,” Hamilton allowed, looking away sharply. It wasn't usual body language for him. “Now let's get going, preferably with less terrible driving.” 

Thomas gripped the steering wheel, but didn't respond to the jab. He only had to get home, and James could help him. 

His place was totally better than Hamilton's, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been pulled over in my entire life. Stopped at a ride program once, but that doesn't count, really.


End file.
